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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29078979">Histories</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kazekaitou/pseuds/Kazekaitou'>Kazekaitou</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Final Fantasy XIV</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, F/M, Female Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV), Miqo'te Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV), Named Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV), Slow Burn, rated as mature may move to explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 10:34:05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>8,654</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29078979</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kazekaitou/pseuds/Kazekaitou</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>What if the WOL and G'Raha Tia were from the same tribe? A cannon divergence fic.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>G'raha Tia | Crystal Exarch/Warrior of Light</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>24</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Many Thanks to the <a href="https://discord.gg/pZWKcsda">Bookclub discord </a>for their support.<br/>CW Chapter 1: Brief mentions of previous teenage drinking not a theme of the story, but mentioned none the less.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>If one talked to Silver long enough, she might admit she just couldn’t sit still; it was why she took up these ridiculous requests. She wanted to discover, and by traveling she did. It was by her own footsteps that she found the secrets of the world. Here were different shaped leaves  (these were more flat and rounded, less waxy) on taller trees from her former home, thick underbrush with fresh berries that were tart and shockingly addictive when pulled at the beginning of the season, before they turned sweet. It was in this she found delight, the little differences, the smell of the wind, the feel of ambient aether that settled in different ways in different places. Here it felt more steady, less excited, settling down into the depths of trees and the forest floor as a promise of growth. It comforted her. </p>
<p>It was through these wanderings that she found herself in the Gridianian forest hunting down aethersand of all things, to a disembodied voice playing games with her.  </p>
<p>“You are too late, adventurer- and not only for the entertainment, you will find no trace of the ore which but recently lay here. Nay, not so much as a speck.” The voice was clear and projected well, and she peered to look for him. He had to be close, his voice wasn’t muffled by the rustling of leaves or the sounds of animals and bugs. The hair on her neck stood on end, though she didn’t reach for her staff quite yet.  </p>
<p>“Ah...no. You will never spy me from there. For the time being at least, you will have to trust the evidence of your ears. Now stop squinting at the foliage and listen.” She was pretty sure that meant she was close but relaxed back to let him have his ruse. Also, she assumed that it meant he was hiding in the tops of trees, had he not noticed she was Miqo’te? She banished that thought immediately, after all her purple tail was flicking behind her, even if her ears were under the hood of her caster’s robes.</p>
<p>The voice continued to talk, explaining the conditions of his adventure and that he had in fact found the aethersand. Which, of course, he had-- he had gone on this journey days before, and the merchant had been quite clear it would be here. At least Rammbroes had sent a competent adventurer, he had completed his task instead of being impaled to a tree, or any other number of scenarios that could befall the unlucky and unskilled. His voice cut through her thoughts, “I have decided to share the location of an alternative source of aethersand with you─the wind-touched variety, to be specific. I trust I have your attention?” </p>
<p>He had caught in how her mind wandered, her back stiffened up and she nodded from where she stood. She knew full well he had a good vantage point of her face with that kind of question and reminded herself to <em>keep her guard up.</em></p>
<p>“Good. A band of Ixal in the North Shroud keeps a quantity of the abrasive for the purpose of removing impurities from lesser crystals.”</p>
<p>She took note in her journal quickly, Ixal, North shroud, wind, just in case she found herself distracted as she sometimes did. Speaking of distractions, that spring-- </p>
<p>“Well? Do you mean to dally here all day? Make haste, adventurer, before I snatch another prize from under your nose! This is to be a race.”</p>
<p>She smiled, a <em>race</em>. He said something else, that she barely heard because she was already on her way.</p>
<p>When she focused, truly focused, it was as if the world around her moved slower than it should.  She moved through the shroud as if she had been born here as if she had spent years of her life memorizing the curves of strong branches to walk across to avoid streams, or the ones perched against cliffsides, ramps to traverse this world underneath dense canopy. She could feel the paths of those who came before, and let them guide her through the heartbeat of the forest, past creatures aggressive and calm, and towards the Ixal encampment. Things nearby the encampment felt rife with danger: the hints of aggression, echoes of skirmishes, of people fleeing or making sure to give it a wide berth. She slowed down. She looked with sharp eyes tracking subtle movements, ears listening for any suspicious sounds. She moved forward in a measured, calculated pace.</p>
<p>She knew the Ixal well enough that she was going to have a fight. She did not like fighting, killing, incapacitating for herself or others really. But the stakes of the aethersand were high, and the need was great, so she advanced.</p>
<p>She took a moment to feel the earth, to feel the aether inside of her. To feel the low buzzing of the echo, move left, move right, ley lines, cast. She followed it instinctually, and birdmen fell almost as fast as they had risen to attack her, and soon the Aethersand was hers. </p>
<p>The voice was behind her, she spun as he spoke, “I appear to have forfeited our little race! Congratulations─the wind-touched abrasive is yours.” </p>
<p>It was already in her hands, and she almost dared him to try and take it from her. He didn’t, simply continuing on, sending her to fetch another sand from the dullahans.</p>
<p>The golems were not more difficult than the Ixal, the fight unremarkable in the memories of fights she had faced.  What she hadn’t been expecting was his commentary.</p>
<p>“Lest you accuse me of playing games, you should know that the thought of relinquishing my prize never once crossed my mind ─ until I saw you in action. Such deeds must be rewarded.”</p>
<p>She looked around for him again, the area not providing quite as much cover as before, but enough that he was able to keep himself out of sight. She opened her mouth to ask him a question. He interrupted, “It is my vocation, you see, to record history as it is made by mortal men. And I much prefer to chronicle the accomplishments of the bold and the mighty.”</p>
<p>Holding her tongue, she raised an eyebrow, unsure how exactly collecting magical sand in the shroud could be construed as bold or mighty on any occasion. Unheeded by her expression he continued, “Thus, it is my fervent wish that you continue your career with the same courage and zeal you have shown today. We shall meet again, adventurer─and sooner than you may imagine.”</p>
<p>She found herself making a soft smile, something about the man who hid himself felt genuine and warm. She waited, far longer than she should have to see if he would say something else, half expecting him to introduce himself right then- instead of waiting for another time.   She adjusted her bag and headed back to Saint Coinarc’s Find with news of accomplishing the task at hand. </p>
<p>~*~*~*~</p>
<p>The Sun had set, the only thing to keep the workbench active was the light of the high tower and the moon. It did not deter Cid, who worked tirelessly to transform the Aethersand into four glowing fangs to get past the guardian gates, finally bringing them to completion. In doing so they had attracted the attention of all that wished to join the upcoming expedition, including Wedge and Biggs. Silver was listening to them discuss Cid’s philosophy on what technology was to achieve when a familiar voice from above them rang out, “A compelling viewpoint. It is unyielding wills such as yours that have defined the course of history.” </p>
<p>She looked up high, to spot a figure standing over a ramshackle wooden platform fairly high up. The researchers here had built platforms so hastily that there were jokes about them falling, but magic kept things upright when wood and nails did not quite do. She could see he was Miqo'te, but not much detail as he slightly silhouetted by the light of the Crystal Tower behind him. As she was sizing him up,  Rammerbroes was yelling at him about where he had been.</p>
<p>“Why, the task you assigned to me, of course. Surely you have not forgotten about the aethersand? I tasked a passing adventurer with delivering it. A more capable courier I could not imagine.”</p>
<p>Her tail flicked in displeasure, she was not-- her thoughts interrupted as he <em>lept</em> off the platform, an agile flip to land safely on the ground with a huge smile, “Greetings, adventurer! Did I not say we would meet again? I believe an introduction is in order. I am G'raha Tia, one of the Students of Baldesion. I look forward to joining you on your groundbreaking expedition!”</p>
<p>Silver had to make a choice, right then and there and chose to be impulsive, pushing down the hood of her caster robes so he could get a good look at her face while she spoke, “Ahhh, G’raha Tia, son of G’rexa, it is good to see you so far from home.” </p>
<p>He stared eyes darting back and forth as he tried to remember her, “You?!” The surprise was evident, “G’liegha? You are the Warrior of light?”</p>
<p>“Its Silver now.” Was the curt response with a wicked grin. She watched him squirm for a moment putting his hand behind his head and shifting from foot to foot. </p>
<p>“I--uh, I wouldn’t have if I’d…”</p>
<p>She laughed, “G’raha Tia, Student of Baldesion, it has been a long time, and you’re forgiven provided you never, ever call me Liegha.”</p>
<p>The red head Miqo’te swallowed, and Cid, an expert in tension interrupted, “So you two-- <em>know</em> each other? And Silver, you have another name?”</p>
<p>Silver sighed. It was going to come out sooner or later, “Yes, I am from the Gryffon Tribe. They do not know that I am the Warrior of Light, and it is information that should not get back to them, in Ilsabard.” She gave a pointed look at the redhead Miqo'te and he nodded in understanding. “G’Raha and I knew each other as children, briefly- the Gryffon tribe covers a large geographical area and while I know of him, we are of different families so I do not know him well.”</p>
<p>Cid nodded. </p>
<p>“If I may ask,” G’raha started, “Why Silver?”</p>
<p>She pulled the edges of her robes up silver scar marred lengthwise against her calf, almost glowing in the dim light across otherwise smooth, dark skin. </p>
<p>Rammbroes is the one who interrupted his locked gaze, “G'raha Tia has been assigned to the project as an observer. I hope you will forgive him his...eccentricities and welcome him as one of our own.”</p>
<p>Silver abruptly dropped her robe and stood up, pushing her hood back over her ears, “I look forward to it.” </p>
<p>“So then, our fellowship is complete, and all stand ready to step into the unknown! Three cheers for NOAH!” G'raha Tia smiled exuberantly, though the feeling did not quite catch on in the way he desired. </p>
<p>A perplexed  Cid was the one who politely asked,  “Noah?”</p>
<p>“That is the name I have chosen for our little collective. Given our differing backgrounds, we cannot very well call ourselves the Sons of Saint Coinach, can we? And we must have a memorable appellation if our venture is to leave its mark in the annals of history. I could claim that NOAH stands for ‘Nominated Observers of Artifacts Historical,’ and so it does, technically─but my true reason for choosing this name stems from the fact that it is shared by a vaunted Allagan archmagus.”</p>
<p>Wedge reentered the conversation, “An archmagus? I like the sound of that!”</p>
<p>Rammbroes spoke next “...Very well. Now that the pressing matter of what to call ourselves has been settled, it is time we set forth to brave the outer defenses of the Crystal Tower. Is everyone ready to depart in the morning?”</p>
<p>Everyone nodded, and the team started to break up. Cid suggested gently, “Why don’t you catch up with G’raha Tia for a few minutes prior to retiring?”</p>
<p>Soon they were standing there alone. She tried to pull at something to say, and finally settled at, “The Noah Tribe huh?” </p>
<p>He had startled, eyes wide and a blush tinged his cheeks as if she had caught a delicate part of his heart and she regretted it and instantly wanted to do it again. </p>
<p>He shook his head “Its ah-- a <em>collective</em> of like minds, less than a tribe, don’t you think?”</p>
<p>She nodded acquiescing to him, “I guess so. I’ve never been fond of our tribe.” She watched him for his response, which was just to avoid her eyes.</p>
<p>“Neither have I.” There was complexity in his simple statement, marked in his hunched shoulders, in the way his tail hung low. </p>
<p>“I left on not so good terms myself, I made a mess of things.” She admitted, looking away, chiding herself for bringing up a time she didn’t really want to remember.</p>
<p>“What did you do?” She could see that he was trying to piece together a time when he was not even there, he would have already been a Student of Baldesion by then.</p>
<p>“Well, I was slightly drunk and 16, which means it was something not good.”</p>
<p>He pointed at her, almost jumping up and down in excitement after a moment, “You were the woman one who declared yourself Nuhn!”</p>
<p>She shrugged her shoulders, “I did.”</p>
<p>He reigned in his excitement at her flat response. “I’m sorry,  this story is something of a legend now, and I do admit I love hearing things from the primary source. So, the vaunted Warrior of light was drunk, and then?”</p>
<p>“To be fair, I didn’t know I was the Warrior of Light. I was probably more just tipsy than drunk but I was 16 and didn’t know any better, but I digress. I, a lone Miqo’te female, picked the biggest Nuhn in the whole Gryffon area and challenged him publicly, and loudly I might add. The whole forest heard, pretty much all the families were there. He put down his drink and it went down right then and there. Then I won, grabbed his drink, took a ridiculous swig, and told all that were watching that I was now Nuhn. It...did not go over well as a form of social commentary. But I did decide I could try my hand at adventuring, so there's that.”</p>
<p>His mouth was wide open, eyes wider than she thought they could even go, before they suddenly softened,  “Is that why you left?”</p>
<p>“The tribal leaders were less than pleased, and my father explicitly told me to go.” She did not need to explain what it meant to be tribeless in Ilsabard,  so close to Garlemald. </p>
<p>“I’m sorry.” </p>
<p>She shrugged as if it weren’t something to be sorry about, but G’raha looked at her, through her. </p>
<p>“Silver, it was your home as it was once mine. As for the backwardness of the place, it is what it is. But, that alone does not take away the hurt of having to leave it behind to be who you need to be.”</p>
<p>She looked at him. He was sincere, attentive, watching her emotions. She was sure he noticed the stammering in her heart, the teenage girl who left a place where she was unwelcome, and no one had ever acknowledged that pain in the years that had passed since. She barely acknowledged it on her own, and instead of turning into it, she turned towards him “You…” She wasn’t sure what she wanted to say about the scholar. She remembered about his father, vaguely, the nuhns were spread apart, their territory marked by a common village. There were few threads to hold on to but nothing concrete.</p>
<p>He smiled, “There's not much to say about the boy with the red eye who liked to read in treetops. My Father...he knew I loved books and Baldesion was a place to go, but in truth, I was sent away because I would not follow the path of those before me. It...was an answer for the conflict that did not put me at odds with the Elders, but sometimes I wonder if or when I will return.”</p>
<p>“Is that why you are an Archer?” She asked because it was a known skill amongst Miqo'te, and a good hunter was a good nuhn by those who considered those things.</p>
<p>He held up his hands, blushing and defending himself against the accusation and she decided right then and there that startling him was far too fun. He defended himself,  “I am <em>good</em> at it you know."</p>
<p>She smiled widely, “Then I hope to see you in action then someday.”</p>
<p>“You will.” </p>
<p>He flashed a smile that was clearly a flirt, and she found herself smiling back. After a moment, shifting her own feet she excused herself to make her own tent, telling herself she did not know what to make of the Miqo’te.</p>
<p>The only thing she was sure of when she laid on her bedroll that night is that she wanted to talk to him again. </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>In Which two Miqo'te Characters exchange glances and G'Raha asks an important favor.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>She drifted in her sleep to Islabard under broad evergreens and well-trodden forest paths. Outside of her old, wooden home, the one she shared with her mother and siblings she stood gripping a bag stuffed haphazardly with things she thought she might need, food, and clothing. She was staring with tear-streaked eyes, a voice screaming at her to <em>go,</em> and yet she was rooted to the ground.</p><p>Beyond the boundaries of the tribe, there was danger. She <em>knew</em> this; she had been taught this since before she could walk. The tribe was safe as long as you were within. As long as you trusted each other.</p><p>She was untrusted. She had defied. She had questioned the wisdom of the ancients.</p><p><em>“GO!”</em> A voice boomed as it was from the sky itself.</p><p>She would not cry and beg like an undignified child, like a castaway, as if this place mattered. Her fate had been sealed with the angry eyes of her father and the judgment of the elders. More so the anger of her father, whose tail puffed to sizes she had never seen, strong hands in fists, breathing from his nose in harsh breaths barely containing himself against the rage radiating off of him.</p><p>She turned from him, steady footsteps despite her instincts telling her <em>danger.</em> He had let her ransack her mother’s home, some before had left with nothing, though the last exile she remembered she had been much younger- more of a child. </p><p>Footsteps towards the gate, one at a time she told herself as she forced her body to move. Steps past Miqo'te, young and old, staring, expressions digging deep into her and she did not look at them, just at the path to the world that awaited her.</p><p>Her mother had run up to her right at the wooden posts that separated the land from the tribe. Brilliant orange eyes, sky blue hair, staring at her trying to say so much with so little time. She’d never forget the tears she held back or the glare at her Nuhn. Now, Silver knew that the love of a mother to her child would excuse her defiance, but then she feared her fate, trying to push her away, trying to reject her, trying to keep her safe. Her mother had shaken her head, she held her face, marked her skin, her head, her ears, even herbag. Then pulled her so close that she felt her mother’s body wracked the silent tears. Her mother gave her the bow from her back. She had always admired it, intricate a story of their tribe carved into the wood. With a single whisper, she said, “Use this to trade for passage once you get to the southernmost trading post. I love you.” The weapon was pushed into her hands before she could protest.</p><p>Her mother had stood tall then, maybe like herself. Then Silver turned walked into the darkness, alone. </p><p>It was a few dark days she stayed near the tribal grounds, looking for search parties or offerings of food from somebody who cared. Nothing showed. </p><p>Silver woke up with a start, before looking around her bare tent and shaking her head. She ran anxious fingers through lavender hair, taking a deep breath, feet on the ground trying to focus on the present. She had not dreamed of that time in quite a while, the depths of loneliness of that first night cutting her like a knife, when she could still smell her mother on her when she still had some tie back to her home before it faded away. Before her goods became used and worn before she had stumbled into Eorzea. She knew she would not get back to sleep. </p><p>It had already been well past dark when she had retired, and the sun was just beginning to show the edges of its existence on the horizon. Donning her spellcaster robes, and her weapon she began her trek to where the tower’s guardians stood.</p><p>She had found it odd that in the depths of the crystal planes that no plant life could be found here. It disturbed her how the stone and crystal intertwined, how the aether sank against the ground like a wet blanket that could not be overcome. There was nothing in the crevices, nothing coiling up, feeding on the energy here. It was stagnant. Repulsive. The Echo hummed with the vague impression of wrongness, but nothing overt and she continued onward. </p><p>Her journey came to a stop when she arrived at the gate to the stone Guardian’s whose vigil protected the tower. Examining intently, she admired the glowing sky blue crystal inset into grey stone. She wondered how the Allagans had inlaid aether in the way they did- it was vibrating with energy, raw and powerful; a force not to be trifled with even thousands of years after its construction.</p><p>“Oh, I--” The voice sounded startled and she turned towards it, a nervous G’Raha Tia shifting on his feet, “I thought I’d be the first?”</p><p>“Couldn’t sleep?”</p><p>“I suppose not. Too exciting, don’t you think?” He jumped down many stone steps, landing near her, and she merely nodded in response not wanting to delve into anything else.</p><p>There was a moment of awkward silence as she watched him look around with wide curious eyes. She cleared her throat after a moment and asked, “So, what does the scholar think about this place? How it was built?”</p><p>“The Allagan ability to create things imbued with Aether is a testimony to their greatness. We can, to some degree, replicate the feat with materia melding, but that is mere child’s play to the amount of power, the scale, and the decorative beauty of what the Allagan’s accomplished in their prime.”</p><p>“It almost looks like it was poured in?”</p><p>“Ahh, yes. From specimens outside the tower as well, it does appear to have been poured a bonded with surfaces, but as to liquify and contain aether back into a solid state at this scale is beyond my understanding.”</p><p>“Hmm.” </p><p>“Hmm indeed. Look at this.”  He pointed at the door and the sky blue filigree upon it before continuing, her eyes following how the dim light danced on his muscular arms, “it is reminiscent of something called the ‘Key to Allag’ which was a staff held by someone of great importance, though who seems to change over time. It may even be sealed within the tower itself, I dare hope. But it could also be a guardian of its own, or maybe a way to channel aether. They did not document their symbolism well.”</p><p>“Oh, there you two are. Not trying to get a head start are you?” Cid smiled, Wedge and Biggs right behind him. “I didn’t fashion these fangs for you to just jump ahead like I’m not even useful.”</p><p>Silver just crossed her arms, giving him a look that told him he shouldn’t dare think that way while G’Raha commented, “Cid, you are the only one among us who has ever crossed past this threshold. I ask that you should take the lead at present.”</p><p>"That's more like it." Cid nodded and G'raha flustered momentarily,  "Can’t have too much leading go to Silver's head."</p><p>"I'm not the type that wants to lead. After you. " She bowed with a silly flourish and caught G'raha staring. He straightened awkwardly with her brief eye contact.  </p><p>Ignoring both of them, Cid walked up to the door they had been staring at before disappearing within. Silver exchanged a momentary glance with G’raha before they both vanished to the other side.</p><p>The Aether hit her like a brick, the echo roaring to life, and her hand flew to her head to steady herself. No visions came, just pulsating aether, almost as if it were a screeching sound against her senses. G’Raha said something about it while she was regaining her focus, and then focused on her,  “Are you okay?”</p><p>She nodded, focusing on Cid readying the first fang. “Surprising is all.” She was going to have a headache for days.</p><p>G’Raha cleared his throat, “Um... before we begin, I do have a request.”</p><p>“What is it?” Cid looked at him momentarily, confused. “Uh, well...I would appreciate it if each of us could write a report for future historians. We’re making history and accessing it all the same. First-hand accounts would be…”</p><p>“All ironworks expeditions have reports. This will be no exception.”</p><p>“But a firsthand account from all of you would be most beneficial…that includes you Silver”</p><p>“Me? Uh I…” Eyes were wide and she shook her head, “I’m not the most eloquent of writers or anything…I’m more good with my staff.”</p><p>“But, even if your words are not that of someone who has studied history, your experience as your own is valuable! You are, the Warrior of Light! History will want your words…” She nodded seeing that the red-head historian wasn’t going to give up, and changed the subject,  “Let’s see what we’re up against?”</p><p>He grinned, drawing an arrow and shooting it towards the guardians, where it exploded scattering remnants down as a shield of orange hexagons interwoven together in light flashed before flickering back into invisibility. </p><p>Wedge jumped up and down, "To think, they thought that four of those was necessary! "</p><p>Unsheathing the red fang, Cid walked up to where the red line ran across the ground in bright crystal, designating where the shield was. Faithful Bigg’s expressed his concern “Chief! It’s too dangerous!!”</p><p>“Dangerous to allow anyone else to risk his life testing one? Quite right. I made the damn things-- It’s my job to see that they work.”</p><p>G’raha and Silver looked at each other, checking if they should try and stop them, but Biggs stepped back so they followed his lead. Silently, Silver who was untrusting enough that meddling with things spawned all kinds of violent creatures readied her staff. While Cid, calm as ever, touched the fang to the center of the shield and then the world exploded around them.</p><p>Covering her eyes, she checked with her echo before she tried to navigate the dust and sensed no imminent danger. “Everyone?!” </p><p>Her voice sounded softer, the boom making her hearing dampened, but she did make out the affirmatives that they were well enough. Eyes then scanned for unwelcome monsters, before looking over her comrades, a little dusty, and perhaps shaken (if G’Raha’s tail was any indication) but none the worse for wear.</p><p>“It worked!” She wasn’t quite who was more surprised,  but Cid strode forward to the next stone guardian and they followed. He took out the second stone, handing it to Biggs who nodded, and it fell instantaneously like the first. The third went to G’raha “So it’s my turn to make the big boom?” He asked Cid, who simply nodded “Go make history, scholar!” </p><p>G’raha touched the fang to the shield and the third guardians fell.</p><p>She stared at the final gate,  her Echo telling her that beyond this was danger. That the tower was dangerous. </p><p>Holding out the yellow fang, Cid prompted her. “The last one is yours, old friend. It only seemed right…”</p><p>She’d lived a long enough life to know that whatever was telling her to be careful was something to face head-on so she took the fang and held it to the barrier, feeling its power reverberate and shatter the field in front of her, evaporating into ambient aether. Letting out a breath she’d been holding she relished her comrades’ cheers for moving forward.</p><p>“The entrance to the tower is near at hand, My blood nearly sings with anticipation!” Exerburent G’raha was endearing even if her blood was prepped for an incoming battle.</p><p>Cid reacted diplomatically, “Speaking of Blood, I have a proposal for the next stage of the expedition. I suggest we wait here while Silver and a handpicked party of her adventuring companions enter the tower.” She raised an eyebrow, but of course, that was the next step. </p><p>“What?! Without us? I thought we came to survey the entire structure!” G’raha’s tail flicked, his eyes wide and she watched as Cid responded as measured as ever.</p><p>“We did-- and we will. But our investigations must proceed at a more measured pace. If the outside of this place is well defended, can you imagine what awaits us on the <em>inside?</em> Only a true hero could reasonably hope to brave the hazards ahead and live to tell the tale. Silver here fits the description better than anyone I know.”</p><p>G’raha stared at her for a moment so long she felt compelled to wave at him. Before she could Cid continued, “And it is not that we shall be idle in her absence. While Silver and her companions are risking life and limb to beat us a path to the tower, we can set about analyzing this rubble for evidence of how its technologies function. Your knowledge of ancient lore will be most valuable in that endeavor, Historian G’raha Tia.”</p><p>“Bah! Do you ever tire of being right, old man!”</p><p>Wedge was now openly snickering, and she just smiled as G’raha turned towards her. </p><p>“Ahem. Silver-- as it seems I won’t be accompanying you, allow me to at least provide some instruction. The maze that surrounds the base of the tower is known as ‘The Labyrinth of Ancients.” During this initial foray, I suggest you concentrate on ridding the tower of its hostile elements. When you are reasonably certain the maze is secure, contact me via linkshell and we shall join you posthaste-- no matter what Master Garlond says!”</p><p>“Of course. But first, let's reconvene back at camp, it will take a few days to gather the men and materials we will need to do such an expedition. After all, anything that we will meet will surely be ready to try to stop us.” </p><p>They turned to head back, Cid discussing some protection needed in this area with Wedge and Biggs from trusted men now that the gates had fallen. G’raha Tia fell in step with her behind them, taking a slower pace.</p><p>“I can’t believe he won’t let me go.”</p><p>She shrugged, not saying anything. “I just...I want to fight too. I want…” He looked up at the sun, now bright in the sky, “I just want to be useful.”</p><p>“Your mind is useful, G’raha Tia.”</p><p>“But I’m…” He kicked at some debris as they were leaving the area before squaring his shoulders. “Hey, Silver- I have a question for you?”</p><p>“I’m listening.”</p><p>“Over the next few days, would you let me train with you...and if you think I can do it, would you ask Cid to change his mind?”</p><p>“I’ll train with you, but the man left the ranks of Garlemald on his own volition. I don’t think anyone can change his mind, but if you want me to try, I can try.”</p><p>“Well, if anyone can, it’s the Warrior of Light.”</p><p>“Please, just call me Silver.”</p><p>“Ahh- of course, my apologies, I don’t mean…”</p><p>“I just...I’m doing this as a friend.”</p><p>He sort of stuttered, wide-eyed for a second. She filled with panic wondering if she’d misstepped when he said “Thank you silver. I’m glad to consider you a friend as well.”</p><p>Something blossomed in her heart. </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>A First Kiss</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Camp life was far too familiar to Silver at this point in her journeys, and that it came with little norms about politely acting like there was some semblance of privacy when in fact all that separated one from another was canvas cloth, and that's if one had a tent to themselves. Camp decorum meant that some things were more spoken by glances and body language, that private things discovered went unsaid.</p><p>G’raha Tia did not understand this. She was sure of it. It was little things spoken, like yes, Rammbroes wife did come from Mor Dohna proper to the camp on occasion, and what happened in his tent was a matter for the camp to <em>ignore steadfastly</em>. And yet, G’raha commented on it, albeit wistfully about love, but nonetheless spoke it aloud. She’d politely nodded. But this, this wasn’t was what bothering her, it was that damn report he wanted. And camp life meant that she couldn’t quite escape him.</p><p>She’d delayed. She’d told him later. She’d hoped he’d just politely forget, and he had not. She’d cited being busy. After all, coordinating a team of 24 to enter the Labyrinth of Ancients wasn’t as easy as getting on a linkpearl, there were things to be done: travel arrangements to be made, compensation promised (though this was a joint venture of Ironworks and the Scions, so Tataru had been helping with those things). There was also acclimating said adventurers to the team, doing drills, trying to force people to get over the fighting with the warrior of light bullshit long enough for them to focus on <em>not dying</em> next to the warrior of light.</p><p>Now she’d moved towards diversion. He’d asked her to train, so train he would. She captured a time where there wasn’t anyone looking for her and went looking for him. She found him sitting, leaning back against a crystal pillar, crimson hair standing out against the bluish glow of it behind him. His legs bent at the knees to hold his book, his tail was swinging slowly as he flipped through pages, one after the other. It surprised her how<em> fast </em>he could read. </p><p>She approached him, and he did not notice, eyes tracking words and nothing else. She stepped right up to him touching his shoulder, and he practically threw his book jumping up wild-eyed.</p><p>“Don’t do that!” He looked her up and down, almost twice noticing that she was in loose drawstring pants and a crop top shirt for practice. </p><p>“We’re going to have to work on that attention of yours. Want to train?”</p><p>He forced himself to look at her face and she felt sort of triumphant. “Now?” </p><p>“Yes, now, unless you are otherwise occupied?”</p><p>He looked between the book and her before answering, a “Ah-- that I can read later. If you are available then let's go.”</p><p>He followed her out of the camp to space where they could spar alone.</p><p>“So first, let's work on hand to hand?” She put her staff down and grinned at him. “Put your bow down, and let’s get started.”</p><p>He complied. “So, any particular thing you want to get started on, or do you want to just go for it?”</p><p>“Go for it.”</p><p>She had some assumptions about him in terms of hand-to-hand, their tribe used a grappling style of fighting that wasn’t common in Eroeza at all. She rolled her shoulders back, shifted her weight onto the balls of her feet, and watched her opponent. “When you are ready, we can begin.”</p><p>“Ready.” He was bouncing on his feet, shifting, ever moving. She, who was well practiced in the ways of black magic, was far more conservative in her movements, targeting her opponent only when she was good and ready to strike. Clearly, he was a high-energy fighter, his movements broader, more testing than the controlled movements. If this was preference or skill, she did not yet know.  He began to gauge her reactions trying to figure out the exact distances in which she would react, and what movements would have her change positioning or strike.</p><p>She made her first move, changing the distance instantaneously, closing in for a strike, and he reacted by increasing the distance back to safety, before bouncing back forward preparing for a strike that did not come. They equalized out and the dance began again. </p><p>She noted his body language. His ears how they pointed, his tail as it shifted for his next move. How his eyes focused solely on her.</p><p>“So, anybody you want to train with that you haven’t?” He asked before coming in with a punch that she simply moved back from.</p><p>“Kan-E-Senna, if she would permit.” </p><p>He raised an eyebrown, and she went in with a light attack he wasn’t all that successful at blocking, but managed to create enough distance that she returned to stance. </p><p>“But--Kan-E-Senna, the elder seedseer?”</p><p>“I just want to see what she can do? There are rumors about the calamity and her role in the fighting. I don’t believe she would ever indulge me on such a trivial matter.”</p><p>G’raha leapt forward, Silver sidestepping though he turned to slide past her and he grinned, bouncing off the ground and towards her again, striking her in the midriff and she tumbled backward onto the ground. He pinned her with his body weight, locking her body fairly impressively in a way that Miqo’te Nuhns did in combat, and he whispered into her ear “I’ve got you.”</p><p>Her heart raced, warmth spread through her and she tried to focus. She moved, and she could feel the warmth of his body, the friction of his clothes, the quickness of his breath, all the while trying to find a spot to use her leg to roll him so that she was on top.</p><p>“Are you so sure?” She asked him once she had him pinned.</p><p>His mismatched red and blue eyes were blown wide, and he struggled against her. His tail batted her side uselessly. She shifted her weight to try keep him pinned, but he found purchase to push his legs against her body and she flew backward, and he scrambled up to continue the match, wide smile across his features.</p><p>She had to agree, this was far too fun. </p><p>“Who would you like most to fight?” She called out to him as he caught his breath before advancing.</p><p>There was no mistaking the red on his face from exertion as he blushed<em>.</em></p><p>While he was off guard she moved forward, closing the distance before he could respond sweeping him off of his feet and locking his legs with her own, arms pinning down his. She was pressed against him, and this time, he struggled but couldn’t find a movement that would break him free. She held him there as he tried, feeling his strong body move against hers, his arms try and push her away. He did not stop trying. </p><p>“Tap out, G’raha.”His movements were futile and she really didn’t want to hurt him for him to tap out.</p><p>He made a low growl that went through her, and impulsively she <em>marked</em> him, cheek rubbing across firm chest hard as he sputtered in surprise. She looked up at him as he looked down at her, and she grinned showing her teeth before bursting into laughter. </p><p>His reaction was undeterminable to her, a myriad of feelings she couldn’t place, so immediately she let go of him, standing back up kind of startled, watching him and his reaction nervously. Marking was a way to end fights back home-- but it was also an incredibly intimate way to do so. A way you did so when becoming Nuhn, or looking for a new mate.</p><p>He made it to his own feet, still looking at her in silence, and she impulsively started to apologize, “I’m sorry---” </p><p>“No, no no, I clearly had lost, though it was a pleasure to do so.” He looked down at his shirt ears tilting as he contemplated saying something else. She felt uncomfortable in this silence, this unknown of whatever this was so she started speaking, “So who do you want to fight?”</p><p>He shifted, “Uh-- you.”</p><p>
  <em>Oh</em>
</p><p>“Well, then. Dream come true. But let me tell you, there are far more interesting people to fight.”</p><p>He scoffed. “I have my doubts.” He flashed a brilliant smile, and her eyes lingered at his parted red lips. This is not how she expected her day to go. </p><p>“Again?” She asked, god help her.</p><p>“Of course!” He readied himself and moved towards her. Silver was spending time dodging G’raha’s attacks when Cid interrupted.</p><p>“Silver-- there you are!” looking at the two of them without comment. </p><p>“What news?”</p><p>“Looks like our observations are three days from being done, and I think that gives you enough time to prepare. But I wanted to check-in, in case you were having doubts about the team or any other considerations we should have in place before you enter the Labyrinth.”</p><p>“Three days is enough. I think delaying longer will just give time for somebody else to enter.”</p><p>“If someone managed it, it would be at their peril. The readings from inside are very high in aetheric energy, and there are definitely dangerous things in there protecting it.”</p><p>She nodded. “Isn’t that always the case?”</p><p>He nodded turning away. </p><p>She turned to G’raha, “I think you can train with the group. I won’t promise  you’ll be able to go, but it will be good practice nonetheless.”</p><p>“Really? You kicked my <em>ass</em>.”</p><p>“You have the foundational skills, but really need to work on your body expression, I can tell what you are going to do. Let’s grab whatever the camp is offering for lunch and I’ll introduce you to the crew. Besides we brought a summoner, we get to fight Egi’s for practice. It will be fun!”</p><p>They made their way to where Lunch was being prepared, and once G’raha had a bowl and bread of the soup of the day, he pulled out a book reading and eating. She watched him, intently focused, as people came by asking her quick questions or just saying hello. After a few minutes, G’raha put his book down. “Do you ever get alone time?”</p><p>She shrugged, sitting in silence wasn’t her thing either she supposed. He put down his book. </p><p>“You know, I am really looking forward to your report when you get the chance to write it.” He said softly, watching her.</p><p>“No.” She abruptly pushed her chair back grabbing her bowl and standing up. “I’m sorry G’raha Tia, I will not be providing you with a report. We’re training outside the gates of Mor Dohna on the east side. If you want to join, I’ll see you there.”</p><p>She felt guilty, he looked absolutely hurt and confused, but she walked away anyway. Besides, it wasn’t going to happen, and he needed to know that. As she walked away, she heard a tablemate making a comment about her demeanor. She didn’t stay close enough to listen.</p><p>He did show up to the training. She didn’t speak to him directly, mostly managing the operation, watching people learn each other’s styles and work together. Sometimes she’d throw some extra magic in to help them refocus. G’raha’s performance was not optimal, it was clear he hadn’t done this before- the other warriors were providing criticism without her input. He was focused, determined, and worked until he exhausted, and when the sun went down in the evening, they closed out.</p><p>Overall, it looked like the team would do, but G’raha tia would not be joining them. Before he could catch up with her, she retired to her tent.</p><p>“Silver?” G’raha voice tore through her tent like a knife.</p><p>She didn’t move and stayed silent, hoping he would forget.</p><p>“I know you’re in there.”</p><p>“Fine.” She marched out, arms crossed looking at him with a deadpan stare, “What do you want?”</p><p>“You’re report of course. I’m really interested in your perspective on all of this and…”</p><p>She just shook her head. Let him sit in his own silence. </p><p>“But why? It doesn’t have to be detailed or fancy, but for an accurate historical record I need as many first-hand resources---”</p><p>He was earnest, she watched his hands as they fluttered around in passion, as he looked at her explaining about the value of what she could contribute, just trying to convince her, and she realized he was never going to give up. </p><p>“We need to talk.” She interrupted him. She looked around at the camp for a moment, ducked back in her tent, and pulled out a journal and her weapon before coming back out. “Let’s walk.”</p><p>G’raha followed her as she took a quick pace outside of the camp towards Silver Tear lake. Eventually, they sat. She looked out across the lake, at jutting crystal, at moonlight refracting on small waves, the towers light also dancing in the water, but not at him. She could feel him frowning, politely waiting for her to speak. </p><p>For all of his impulsivity, he seemed to have infinite patience now. </p><p>“I’ve never told anybody this.” She said softly, towards the water. “I need you to keep this in confidence. Can you do that?”</p><p>“For you, I will do anything you require.”</p><p>She closed her eyes at that. She thought it over, how his voice sounded. How earnest, steady. A vow. A promise.</p><p>“This is about me...about Silver.. Will you keep confidence for me, not for the warrior of light. Not for some duty or mission?”</p><p>“I will keep confidence because I consider you my friend, Silver.”</p><p>“I know that…” She ran her hand through her short purple hair, “I also know that you’ll think differently for me about this. You’re a scholar after all. A scholar…” It trailed back off into silence.</p><p>“I’m not sure I’m following?” </p><p> She sighed, turning towards him. “I can’t give you the reports. I’m sorry. I just can’t.”</p><p>“But why?”</p><p>She felt tears of shame pinprick her eyes. She felt the judgment of her father who barred her from school, who exiled her from the tribe. She felt teases and confusion, she felt so many things, and she spoke simply “G’raha, I can’t write in common.”</p><p>“Wait what!?” She felt his shock. She thought about how much the scholar would realize how different they were. How useless she was outside of battle.  That she wasn’t smart enough to understand what he was doing, to listen to his stories. To enjoy his company.</p><p>“I said, I can’t write. Look.” She threw the journal at him, and he opened the pages.</p><p>He looked down at a delicate script, featuring a writing script he’d never seen before. It was full of curves, of heights and waves, flowing across the page. It was beautiful in its own way, how it just seemed to flow, but he couldn’t make heads or tails out of it. He continued to flip through pages trying to pull out patterns. </p><p>Her voice was rushed, thoughts jumbled and as he looked it tumbled out of her “When I was a kit, they thought I was stupid. My entire childhood was about what I could or couldn’t do, the Nuhn was ashamed of me, I was hidden away more than not. Now I think it’s related to the echo? From the time I had acquired language, I could read. I...could look at something and I would just know what it said. That is still true today.  When I try and read, I can’t see it like everybody else, I see it like that. If I try really hard I can shift through to see through the echo and get to the text that is actually on the page. I know the individual letters of common, but it's incredibly difficult for me to write when it literally transforms in front of my eyes. I eventually just learned to write like that for myself.” She shrugged, “But I can’t...I can’t just give you a report. I can’t write in a language I rarely can see, it is hard for me to grasp the fundamentals, play with letters and sounds. And this, you’d never understand it. Sometimes I’m writing and even though I understand it I don’t know how or why. Maybe I just made it up. Maybe crazy...”</p><p>He shook his head, “No no, that’s not true. This, this is magnificent. The students of Baldesion would love to see this! What do you call it, this language?” He looked up with the same excitement he had when he had introduced the concept of NOAH to them. The same excitement she saw when he recited information about Allag. </p><p>She was reeling. “ ”</p><p>“Wha---G’raha no one can <em>know!</em>”</p><p>“Why not?”</p><p>“I can’t do something basic. There’s--”</p><p>“Who in the tribe told you that?! That’s--”</p><p>“It doesn’t matter?”</p><p>G’raha paced for a moment. He fidgeted. He looked up towards the tower. He sighed.</p><p>“What?” She was short and defensive and she knew it.</p><p>“I’m just...I’m just <em>angry! </em>You have this amazing gift- knowledge of a whole language! You understand it, there’s no evidence of it that I know of. You should have been sent to the Students, you should have been able to study, you should… and they told you you were stupid!??!”</p><p>“I couldn’t write my own name until I was nine.”</p><p>He took a deep breath, he composed himself, dropping his shoulders and looked at her with compassion, “Thank you for letting me know. Would you mind if I asked you some questions about this? I’d really, I’d really really love to learn more. And if I can learn to read it then our problem is solved.”</p><p>She shifted. She paused. He looked at her so genuine, so interested, and it hurt. “Okay. Where do you want to start?”</p><p>“What do you call it?”</p><p>The warrior turned bright red, tail poofing.</p><p>“What do you call it.”</p><p>“It needs another name! I named it for myself when I was a kid.” She called out from between her fingers, turning away from him.</p><p>“What? Come on, tell me, I want to know. ”</p><p>“Ween woon?” She muttered through her fingers.</p><p>“Ween woon?!” He looked baffled and amused, but continued on “Why ween woon?” She dropped her hands, still red as a setting sun.</p><p>She shrugged, “That’s kind of what it sounds like when I hear it in my head. It’s…” She paused, “It’s beautiful really, like a song from a soul. I can feel it. What do you want to call it? <em>That</em> name is out.”</p><p>“We can call it Language E for now, short for Language Echo, but I kind of prefer ween woon myself.”</p><p>“Don’t keep saying it. I was a stupid, stupid kit.”</p><p>“Silver, look at me.” His voice took a commanding tone she’d never heard before.</p><p>“I don’t care what the tribe said or didn’t say, you are not stupid. You never were. You…”</p><p>They were both caught in each other’s gaze, and he’d unconsciously moved closer to her. They were standing mere ilms apart and she felt so many things rush through her all at once looking up into his eyes.</p><p>His hand trailed her cheek, and he asked mesmerized  “Can I kiss you?”</p><p>She rose up on her tiptoes, their lips connecting at the shore of the lake. </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>So this sets the tone for pretty much the rest of the series- I hope it's something you will all be interested in reading? Comments are always appreciated and welcome.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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